


I am sending back the key

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1600s France, Alternate Universe - Bluebeard Fusion, F/M, Force Visions, Nightmares, One Shot, background stormpilot, bluebeard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: Rey's mysterious new husband, Ben Solo, asks her not to enter his study. But who is he really and what is the truth about his family history?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Sylvia Plath's "Bluebeard".

The nightmares had been a constant presence, plaguing her since she was a little girl left all alone in her room.

It was her wedding day; a bountiful feast had been prepared in her honor. She wore a flowing gown of pure white, unlike anything she had owned before.

Her bridegroom was handsome, his dark, flowing hair almost looking blue-black, like a raven’s wings, in the candlelight.

They danced, and she could feel the press of his hand burning into her side like a brand, a hint of what was to follow that night. But instead of the heat building between them, he bid her adieu for the evening,  and headed into separate, lavish bedchambers, with naught but a chaste kiss and a promise to show her around the manor and its grounds on the morrow.

She tossed and turned in her unfamiliar surroundings, her canopied four poster bed providing her no comfort.

She took a candle and quietly slipped out of her room to explore.

All the doors were unlocked but one.

Somehow, the key materialized in her hand.

She opened the door to see horrors...

Rey woke up panting and clawing at her sheets, desperate for breath. 

She sat up in bed and reached over to her bedside table to light a candle. Her hand trembled as she struck her flint, and she told herself that she could do this. It was a childhood dream come true, a tale she never believed would have happened to her.

Tomorrow was her wedding day, and then she would have nothing left to trouble her mind. Finn and Poe would be safe; her fiancé had promised that they would be well provided for after their military service. And she would never go hungry or be alone again. Agreeing to marry him had been a simple decision, even though the proposal was something she had never expected or for which she had prepared. Rey was not the kind of young woman who who had been expected to make such a grand match, being of lower birth.

Everyone would be safe. The nightmares meant nothing. It was just a coincidence that her betrothed, the local lord Ben Solo, looked so much like the man in her nightmares. It was just a coincidence he bore such a resemblance to the local murderer, Kylo Ren.

Everyone would be safe.

Rey blew out her candle and repeated this to herself, over and over again, until she fell back asleep.

...

The next day, everything was perfect. The guests arrived at the estate in due time after the small church ceremony, and the dancing had begun after a marvelous feast.

Rey looked absolutely stunning in her wedding dress, and Ben dashingly handsome in his suit. His face was full of sharp angles, and he towered over his bride, but Rey couldn’t resist looking up at him as they said their vows, somehow knowing he was just as nervous as she was.

Ben’s parents had been wealthy landowners before they both took ship to the New World, leaving him to manage the family’s estates. Ben’s mother’s prior home had been destroyed in a great fire years before Ben had been born, rumoured to have been set by Ben’s grandfather himself. Tragedy seemed to run in the family, culminating when Ben himself had disappeared nine years prior after a horribly violent fight in the town square, an event from which the legends about a black knight named Kylo Ren had come. Ben had returned home just two years ago, with the news that his father had been murdered on one of his infamous sea voyages. After his father’s death, his mother had no wish to return to her family’s ancestral lands, preferring to remain abroad maintaining her political capital and influence in the colonies and corresponding with the aristocracy from afar.

Since then, Ben had dwelled alone in his family’s huge manor, with only books and shadows for company.

Ben’s hair caught the light and turned bluish-black yet again, drawing Rey’s eye. She and her new husband barely knew each other, yet she found herself wondering what it would be like to run her hands through those dark waves.

She just hoped that her nightmares would no longer continue once she was sharing her bed with him. She shuddered to consider what he might think. Surely proper young ladies had grown out of their nightmares by the time they were married.

He turned to look at her and attempted to smile, though crookedly, down at his new wife.

“I hope you will find your new home pleasing,” he said. “I am often away, managing my family’s other properties and attending meetings in the capital. You will have full reign as lady of the manor while I am gone. You may do anything that you choose with the decor and explore the rooms and the gardens, just please don’t enter my study while I am away. Otherwise, you may go anywhere that you choose.”

His eyes shifted away from her at these statements, and Rey knew he wanted to make her feel comfortable in her new role and environment but was unsure how best to do so. She squeezed his hand gently as they turned and smiled up at him.

“Thank you,” she started. “I won’t disturb anything, though I am very excited to take a morning stroll in the gardens and to learn how to run the household. Perhaps you could show me around tomorrow morning after breakfast?”

They were separated briefly by the dance before he could answer.

“I will have to depart for the capital early tomorrow, but I would love to take a walk in the garden with you before I do. I will show you around a bit tonight after the guests leave.”

Rey nodded at him, and then they were separated once more by the dance. Rey was twirled about by another tall gentleman with shocking red hair, who she knew to be General Hux, one of Ben’s closest friends, and then twice more by her beloved adopted brothers, Finn and Poe. She danced, feeling light on her feet, until she realized the night had disappeared and most of their guests had departed. Finn and Poe pressed kisses to her hands before they left, promising to call on her the following week to give her time to establish her role in the household.

She smiled after them, blinking back tears, realizing that she truly was alone in a great household without anyone to guide her. Rey never had a mother to teach her the feminine arts or a lady’s proper role, and her new mother-in-law was thousands of miles away and seemed to have barely been around to teach her own son.

She took a deep breath and turned back to see her husband at the edge of the ballroom, looking lost in thought. He suddenly looked at her, blinked, and extended his arm to her.

“Come, Rey, everyone has left. I’ll show you to your rooms and some of the other areas that may be of interest to you, such as the library.”

“Do you have a large library?” she asked, trying not to sound too eager and knowing that she failed.

He chuckled lightly and said “Oh yes, my mother was quite the reader when she was growing up. Her father could deny her nothing, especially not her love for books and learning. She spent a lot of time rebuilding her library after the one she had in her childhood was destroyed.”

His touch on her arm was gentle but firm. Rey found herself growing used to it, and she was enjoying listening to her husband talk of his family and his childhood. She smiled as he was telling her about his family’s beloved hunting dog, Chewie, and was enjoying hearing how he had acted out his favorite childhood stories with the old hound, when she felt a chill running up her spine from a draft. Suddenly a door slammed elsewhere in the house, echoing through the halls. It was then that she realized how dark and shadowy the house really was, and that she had goosebumps on her arms from the cold.

She jumped and shuddered, then realized Ben’s hand was still on her arm, reassuring and solid.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I feel it too. This house is so old and drafty. It makes one think that the shadows are alive and lurking in every corner.”

Despite his reassurances, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, as if she were being watched and the walls were listening. Old suits of armor lined the main hall, most of which had been recovered after the fire at the previous manor. The polished silver glistened in the moonlight.

She was distracted through the rest of her husband’s tour of his--no, _their_ home. Her eyes kept alighting on various objects she wanted to examine, on rooms she wanted to enter.

Throughout their walk, he kept his light touch on her arm, an act of which she was incredibly aware, not being used to such physical contact. He guided her along, showing her the lavish dining room, the sitting room that had been set aside for her personal use, the marvelous library that he had mentioned. Normally Rey’s fingers would have itched to touch all of the books, but she couldn’t shake her nerves, couldn’t help but wonder what her life was going to be like in the dark confines of a formal manor home.

They made their way upstairs, with Ben pointing out the rooms which his late parents had shared before his father’s untimely death, before stopping at another set of doors at the end of the hallway.

“This is to be your room,” he said. “I hope you will find it suitable. We can change anything you wish, of course,” he added. “New draperies can be ordered from town, and the servants will cater to anything you might want. I’ll show you outside around the grounds tomorrow, like you had asked.”

He seemed so eager to please her, and Rey tried to process knowing the expense her husband must have gone to for their wedding and preparing for her to live here was likely more money than she, Finn, and Poe had ever had in their lives combined.

“Thank you, I’m sure it will be wonderful,” she said, smiling up at her husband and willing herself to be strong. She had taken care of herself her whole life without any fear. Surely she could do this.

He smiled back at her and kissed her hand. “Good night, Rey. I hope you sleep well.”

“Good night, Ben,” she said, and turned to look back at him as he entered his bedroom. He seemed sad suddenly, and much older than his years.

Rey made ready for bed, trying not to let her thoughts race and failing miserably. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed that her husband did not seem inclined to spend the night with her, that she still knew so little about him. _In time,_ she thought. _We will learn to love each other_ . _We have the rest of our lives_.

She finally fell asleep, hours later, trying to ignore what she thought were the sounds of whispers.

…

Rey awoke the next morning, feeling disoriented in her new room, but thankfully she had passed the night without a single nightmare. Ben met her for breakfast and then escorted her outside for a quick tour of the gardens and stables as he had promised. It passed uneventfully, with Rey noting how tall and strong the trees were, pressing up to the main house and casting great shadows upon the lawns.

He presented her with a large ring of keys, which would unlock any door in the house, including the older, unused wings of the house and Ben’s private study. Rey slipped the heavy ring into her pocket, promising herself not to give in to temptation.

After Ben set out for the capital, the sound of hooves fading away, Rey introduced herself to the manor staff, none of whom she had seen the night before—or at least, no one whose presence she had noticed or registered. She squared her shoulders, standing straight and tall in her fine new dress. She was the lady of the house now, and she would act accordingly.

The set of keys he had given her weighed heavily in the pocket of her dress, as the knowledge that she was alone and running this great estate weighed on her. She felt being pulled down, down, down, into a black tunnel, the way she felt when she was a little girl and could not sleep because of the nightmares. She would huddle under her thin scrap of a blanket, curled up in a ball, looking to make the darkness safe and comforting rather than disquieting.

His locked study door pulled at her. She knew she had the key, though he had asked her not to enter.

She wanted so badly to understand him, to learn about his business, to make him happy as a wife should. Rey had never been particularly feminine or well trained in the feminine arts; after her parents had died on a voyage to the New World, her uncle had abandoned her to the orphanage, where she often received punishment for hunting down extra scraps of food. She languished there, performing hard labor that built her into an attractively lithe young woman, sneaking away books and teaching herself anything she could by the light of a candle stub at night.

Her life changed when she bumped into Finn at the market one hot afternoon. She was charmed by his warm smile, and she had eagerly accepted his offer of work as a live-in housekeeper. Finn shared a small home near the square with his colleague from the militia, Commander Poe Dameron. Both were confirmed bachelors who were well liked by their small town neighbors, and they took on various odd jobs in addition to their terms of service in the king’s forces.

Rey was startled out of her reverie, hearing someone calling her name. She arose from the chair where she had been sitting, reviewing the accounts related to the estate, and peered out into the long passage leading to the other rooms. No one was there.

_Rey._

A strong, deep male voice, one Rey did not recognize, called out to her.

 _You will be tempted, but you cannot control it_ , said another. Rey wasn’t sure how to explain it, but somehow she knew this voice was older and wiser than the first. He sounded weary, as if he had seen many winters.

A shadow crossed from behind her, a cloud passing in front of the sun and obscuring the accounting book she held in her hands.

“Who’s there?” she called out, but no one answered her.

Rey had never been afraid of a challenge, and she was determined to find out who was whispering, speaking to her. She knew she had heard whispering in her room the night before.

The voices seemed to be coming from a closed door near the end of the hallway, next to Ben’s bedroom. It was the one room he had asked her not to enter: his personal study.

 _Rey, these are your first steps_. The second voice echoed through the empty halls.

She looked around her once more and, seeing no one, drew the key from her pocket, turned the lock, and opened the door.

Entering the room, she was surprised to find it rather quaint. Neither the furniture nor decor was especially ornate, and it was mostly given over to books and candles on every available surface. Her husband kept a great sabre near to his desk, from his knightly service, she surmised.

Sitting on a pedestal at the back of the room, however, was the remains of a helmet, charred and blackened. It was curious, for the suits of armor downstairs in the great hall had been polished to a sheen, looking none the worse for wear from the infamous fire. But this one was completely black, collapsed in on itself. Its eyeholes seemed to bore into Rey’s own, daring her to come closer, to touch it.

She stepped forward, as if in a trance.

She had heard tall tales in the orphanage of young ladies being seduced or otherwise violated after being entranced, and she always scoffed and rolled her eyes at the matron glowering down at her. She was no wealthy young maiden with a reputation to protect.

She touched the helmet, lifting it from its place of prominence on the pedestal, and the world shifted around her.

Looming before her was a long, shadowed passageway. As she walked along, the candelabra along the wall lit as she went by, lighting her way.

A door to her left opened as she passed. From inside a woman cried out, screaming and heaving. She was lying in a white bed, her long brown curls strewn about her. Tending to her was a wise but tired-looking man with an auburn beard.

Rey stepped toward them, to offer her help in any way she could, and the world whirled around her again.

A handsome young man, a scar crossing his eyebrow, swung out with a long sabre, fighting an unseen foe.

Hunched over a book of sums, a boy--her husband?-- sat in his room alone, crying and making eyes at the sabre mounted on the wall. His hair glistened blue-black in the light as he tried in vain to hide his tears.

Everything was engulfed in flame. The walls were red, glowing and hypnotizing as beams and embers fell and flew around her. The floors were red, a river of blood running, dripping from the woman in the bed, staining the pure white sheets.

Standing on the lawn, watching the flames reach out to caress the stars, was a young woman in a white gown, her hair bound in a coiled bun. She was being restrained by a man in black armor, struggling to breathe heavily. Neither of them said a word.

Rey’s hands dripped blood, and her fingertips were covered black with soot.

_He knows what you’ve done. You’ve seen it all, and you will give it to him._

Rey had no answer to the whispers in her head, though this time they were her own voice and not that of the man she had heard before.

When the world righted itself, she arose from the floor of her husband’s study with tears running down her face.

...

Her husband returned from his long journey on a wet and rainy night, the fires flickering and the branches of the great trees brushing against the house, as if looking to console it.

She seated herself, smoothing her long skirts out before her, folding her hands on her lap. She steeled herself to face her husband’s certain displeasure. She couldn’t shake the feeling of blood on her hands, and kept looking down at them, expecting to see soot.

Since she had touched the helmet, she hadn’t heard any of the whispers.

Seated in her personal sitting room by the fire, a cup of steaming tea at her side, Rey waited for her husband to approach her.

“Rey?” he asked, entering the room and softly closing the door behind him.

“Are you all right?” he continued, seating himself next to her.

She had prepared herself for the worst, believing her husband would be furious with her. She had heard rumors of his ferocious temper after the announcement of their engagement, and had expected some display of that sort. His gentle demeanor, however, was unexpected. Despite the past three years of living with Poe and Finn, Rey was still unaccustomed to tender concern.  

“I went into your study,” she blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. “I touched the helmet that’s in there. I saw things…” she trailed off, imagining herself looking at her the way she thought her husband must have been at that moment. She dissected herself, removing her offending hands and sharply castigating her weakness, her lack of self-control.

Forcing herself to focus and continue explaining, she straightened her shoulders, still not meeting her husband’s eyes. “I heard whispers throughout the house, and I had to know where they were coming from. I thought they were coming from your study, but there was no one.”

“Rey,” he began, and she couldn’t keep herself from cringing.

“Rey, look at me,” he said, firmly yet kindly, and lightly lifted her chin up and toward him. His countenance was soft, and Rey could see in his dark, tired eyes semblances of the boy he had been, the one she had seen when she touched the helmet.

He didn’t say anything, merely removing his hand to his lap, and she couldn’t help but ask “Why me?”

It seemed to Rey that there were so many things she couldn’t help herself but do the past few weeks.

“I knew you were lonely,” he said. “As lonely as I was. I had seen you often in the square, buying things at market, and I learned of your past from my soldiers who employed you. Unlike you, my parents were alive, but they were never here. My mother always had to set off for this estate or another, looking to exert her influence. My father only cared about his ship and his trading voyages with his first mate, looking for adventure and not wanting to deal with my mother’s absences and my own loneliness. He wanted another companion, not a son.”

Rey took his hand in hers and stroked it gently.

“The whispers you heard were probably my grandfather and his loyal steward, Ben Kenobi, for whom I was named. My grandfather went mad, fearing that my grandmother would die in childbirth. He ignored old Ben’s advice and brought in all sorts of queer folk to try to save her, give her poultices and cures, and the like. Nothing could be done, however; she died not long after giving birth to twins, my mother and uncle. Lord Kenobi was by her side, but my grandfather was not. He banished his oldest friend not long after that, condemning him to exile.”

Rey nodded, connecting Ben’s words with the vision she had seen.

“My grandfather spent most of his time after that fighting in the king’s armies, away from the family estates. My mother and uncle were fostered by other great families, barely knowing each other or their own history. When they were nineteen, my grandfather truly went mad and burned down the original house. My mother was there; he physically restrained her and forced her to watch everything go up in flames. My grandfather eventually died on the battlefield with the king; my uncle had been fighting in that battle, too, and Grandfather died in his arms, begging for forgiveness.”

He paused, looking lost for words, and Rey squeezed his hand once more, urging him to continue.

“I wanted to be a great knight, to prove myself in battle as my grandfather had done, make my own path, separate from my family’s sordid history.”

“And so you shall,” she affirmed, relieved that Ben was not the monster she had created for herself and so feared. “I will help you in any way possible,” she added, saying, “It’s just us, now. No shadows will harm us.”

“Let us make a new start, then,” he said, looking into her eyes and tucking his finger under her chin once more, lifting her face up to his. They kissed, holding each other.

  
Rey knew she would rest easy that night, the first calm night of many to follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks as always to my best friend Amanda, who was a brilliant editor here, and my beta Desiree for their always helpful comments and support.  
> Comments and constructive feedback always appreciated! You can find me at politicalmamaduck.tumblr.com.


End file.
